


Little Ducklings

by BookGirlFan



Category: Animal Farm - George Orwell
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 02:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5479838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookGirlFan/pseuds/BookGirlFan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clover's view on the events leading up to and after the Barnyard Slaughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Ducklings

"Clover?" At the sound of a voice, I look up from my stall, and see a duck waddling towards me, nervously scanning the area for pigs. "Clover, I need to talk to you."

"What is it, Donna?" I ask her. I can see now that she is one of the mother ducks on the farm, and I look for the ducklings that are usually swarming around her legs. To my surprise, she appears to be completely alone. At once, I know this must be serious. No mother would ever leave her children alone in a dangerous area, and the whole farm is dangerous these days. One never knows when they might meet a dog. I've been a mother myself, and I never would have left one of my foals alone here, but ducklings are so much smaller and more vulnerable. This must be very important indeed!

Donna looks around anxiously. "What is wrong?" I ask again.

"I've heard some rumours around the farm, you know, that something will be happening tomorrow, and I'm afraid for my little ducklings. Everything has gotten so violent lately, with all those hens dying not long ago, and Snowball coming into the farm at night. Oh, it right down scares me some nights! I mean, my little ducklings are still so small and precious. I couldn't possibly let one be harmed. And, you know," Donna leaned in closer. "I'm not so sure about those dogs either. They look mighty dangerous to me. If our Leader, Comrade Napoleon, says that they are safe, then I guess they are, but I still don't want them around my ducklings!"

I sigh, wishing that Donna did not always take so long to get to the point! A lot of ducks are like that, they love to just chatter on, and won't just say what they mean to say. Maybe I can hurry her up a bit. "What were you saying, Donna?"

Donna nods her head up and down quickly, saying, "Right, right, what was I saying? Oh yes, my ducklings! Clover," She looks utterly serious now. "Clover, I want you to hide my ducklings somewhere safe for me. I'm afraid something terrible will happen tomorrow, and I want my ducklings to be safe. Please, Clover, will you hide the ducklings?"

I smile at her. "Of course I will hide your ducklings. If something terrible will happen tomorrow, then they must be kept safe."

Donna returns my smile. "I'll go get my ducklings!"

Soon Donna returns with 8 beautiful little ducklings. They waddle around me, quacking loudly. "Shh, little ones," I tell them.

"Don't tell me where you hide them," Donna says. "I don't want to know, so I won't be able to give them away." All of a sudden she looks terribly sad. "I'm not a brave duck." I'm puzzled by what she means, but she leaves before I can ask her.

The next day, I find out. The ducklings are safely hidden, when we are called to the yard. Our Leader, Comrade Napoleon came from the farmhouse, with all his dogs rambling around him. We all tremble anxiously. Many of us have heard the rumours, and know that today something terrible will happen. The air itself is heavy with foreboding. Comrade Napoleon stands, looking over us, then utters a whimper to the dogs. The dogs bound forward, and grab four pigs by the ear, dragging them to Napoleon's feet. The blood seems to have sent the dogs mad, because they jump on Boxer! He fights two off, and Comrade Napoleon tells him to let the others go. When it all quiets down, the pigs that were dragged to Comrade Napoleon confess that they were in league with Snowball, and helped him to knock down the windmill. As soon as they finish confessing, the dogs tear their throats out, right in front of us.

It is horrible. The blood splatters over those sitting in front, and the stench of it drifts back to the rest of it. Napoleon calls out for others to confess, and three hens come forward to confess, followed by a goose, then three sheep, then another hen, then, Donna. She comes forward, and confesses to having stolen an ear of corn during the harvest. As the dogs rush towards her, she looks me in the eyes, and I remember her words. "I'm not a brave duck." What did she mean? The dogs rip out poor Donna's throat, and all I can think of is those poor little ducklings that will never see their mother again.

There are many more confessions, and many more deaths, until there is a pile of bodies at Napoleon's feet, and the air is thick with the smell of blood. We all creep away to the hill. Boxer says something about working harder, but I am not listening. I am still shocked at all the death and betrayal. So many have betrayed us, but did they deserve the punishment?

I look around the farm, and with some surprise realise that it belongs to us. It is our farm, all of it, with no humans to spoil it. Still, my mind goes back to the terrible events in the farmyard. It was Donna's farm too, but not anymore. My mind is filled with confusing thoughts, how this is not what we had planned, when we wanted to take the farm from the humans. What went wrong? I don't know.

A little quack alerts me to a presence near my foot. Somehow, Donna's ducklings escaped, and came to the hill. I cuddle them close. Their mother has gone, but they remain, and I will find a way to look after them. That is what I imagine our new world would be like. A place where all are looked after, and the strong protect the weak, like I protected Donna on that night so long ago, and like I will protect her ducklings now. This is the world I imagined, but it is not what has happened.

I begin to sing. I sing slowly and mournfully, and eventually the others join in. We do not know what went wrong, but something has. We have no words to tell how, but we will sing. We will sing to mourn Donna, and all others who died today. This is our mourning song.


End file.
